You Wanna Talk Rain?

Dearest friends in Courtenay/Comox,

I know it's raining there, and I know it's been raining there for about 45 days straight.  And it's cold and the wind is blowing too.  I feel your pain.  I seriously do.  Especially all you golfers (Dad and Daphne).  But I no longer think that it rains hard in Courtenay.  Rain?  You call that rain?   Pfffffft.   Let me show you what rain looks like in Curacao.  First, this picture is basically a warning from the Gods of Thunder that something is brewing, but you don't get to find out when.  It's all a big celestial secret, maybe something is happening, maybe not.  Not for mortals to know.  So, you go ahead and make your plans and in typical Canadian fashion, you reassure yourself that it probably won't rain on your side of the island.

And that's exactly what Thor Thunder and his buddy Zeus were hoping for.  They will wait until you have completed a pleasant shop in Willemstad, enjoyed a luncheon by the cruise ship terminal, and then, as you pile all your purchases together and put the baby back in his stroller to walk back to the bus, you hear what sounds like a tidal wave hitting the rooftop.    And, by the time you race back to the Big White Bus (never, never look up in the sky in a storm like that - just like the turkeys in Arkansas, you could seriously drown), the roads look like this:

That sort-of white line you see is supposed to be the middle of the road but really it is a divider in a swimming pool.   Two lanes, and all we could do was make that diesel engine roar and be grateful that the Big White Bus has enough ground clearance to prevent it from turning into a Big White Ark.    Rick kept us moving forward steadily, creating a wake that could easily have supported a few water-skiers.   Unbelievably, a few cars actually passed us.  One of them was driven by a myopic-looking Japanese guy and I think he actually wasn't even aware of the torrent, probably just thought his brakes felt a little "soft."

It's only a 20 minute drive from Willemstad back to Blue Bay, but it felt a lot longer.  I think we all breathed a sigh of relief once we pulled back into the driveway.   We hurriedly dragged in our parcels and Benny, stroller, groceries.   And within 5 minutes the sun blinked back on, steam started to rise from the pathways and Peter decided to head out for a snorkel.  Unlike the Comox Valley where grey means "grey to stay",  in this odd little Caribbean island the grey melts to blue and suddenly, the view turns to this. 

So, I am sending you all some sunshine, and I hope it sticks.  In the meantime, meet my pal Iggy, who hangs around at the end of the pier when he is not down pooping by the side of the swimming pool.  He is really such a beauty, but I wish his mother would talk to him about his bathroom habits.